


The day us began

by MzDany



Category: Power Rangers S.P.D.
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Hurt Bridge, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Bridge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-07-27 19:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MzDany/pseuds/MzDany
Summary: A notorious criminal abducts Bridge to use him for his own malicious purposes. It takes this precarious situation for Sky and Bridge to reevaluate their feelings for each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The scene at the beginning of the fic relates to the episode “Idol”, where Sky’s good friend Dru turns out to be a traitor and mercenary.

“No….Dru…..Why…”

A few feet away, Bridge let out a long sigh as he lay unmoving in his bed, staring at the dark ceiling, while he listened to his roommate’s third bad dream this month. They weren’t nightmares; nightmares implied fear, and Sky wasn’t afraid. He was angry and deeply hurt, though. Bridge could sense that with or without his gloves on, and that anger over his oldest friend’s betrayal had not diminished yet in Sky, even after all these months.

Bridge turned his head towards Sky at the same time as the lump on the other bed twitched, and Sky’s aura pulsed a bright blue. He mumbled something unintelligible, and Bridge sighed again. _“If only I could help you, do something to make this better…”_

But unfortunately, Bridge’s powers didn’t work that way; what good was being able to read auras and sensing emotions, but not being able to soothe an anguished mind?

A familiar daydream rose from the back of the Green Ranger’s mind towards the forefront. _“If I had psychic healing powers, I would lay my hands against your temples and suck out all those negative feelings and bad vibes and you would look at me with those beautiful eyes of yours and you would say ‘Thank You, Bridge, you made me feel soooo much better’ and you would give me a big hug and I would hug you back and draw it out as long as I could so that I could touch you as much as possible…and then you would pull back but only just so far so that you could look at me again and then you would lean in and…”_ Bridge sighed again and blinked; he had played out the kiss, the favorite part of his daydream, in so many different ways: sometimes chaste, other times passionate, but always with both of their hearts and souls laid bare to each other, endearments whispered against soft lips and Bridge’s bare hands finding their way under Sky’s shirt to roam over warm skin…It was the touching part that excited Bridge almost as much as the kissing part.

Bridge knew he was touch-starved, but there was no way to change that. His genetic powers had kept people at bay as far back as he could remember. He understood and accepted that; people didn’t want anyone to know their most private thoughts and feelings, especially not an awkward, gawky teenager with the tendency to babble and ask long, drawn-out questions. Most of the time it didn’t bother Bridge anymore, but with Sky, things were different.

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when his feelings for his teammate had started running deeper than just friendship, although the physical attraction had been pretty much instantaneous; Sky’s looks had taken his breath away the moment he had been introduced to his fellow cadet on the first day of SPD basic training. Sky’s gruff demeanor, however, had been off-putting, until he realized later on that Sky wasn’t like that to just him, he was like that to everyone.

When they were assigned to be roommates, Bridge was stoked and terrified at the same time. And it was rough at first, but gradually they learned to cohabitate, and Bridge learned that private Sky was quite different from public Sky.

There was Sky, who always studied the SPD handbook in public, but read Bridge’s comic books when Bridge just “happened” to let them lie around their room; Sky, who whistled in the shower... and Sky, who lately often looked at Bridge with an unreadable expression, but always waved it off and changed the subject when Bridge asked him what was on his mind.

 _“If only I knew how you felt. If only you knew how I feel…”_ Bridge knew he needed to resign himself to the fact that he would most likely never know how his teammate really felt about him. Almost of its own volition, Bridge’s arm came up and reached out towards Sky’s bed. Only about five feet separated the two bunks from each other, but it might as well have been a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon. Touching Sky without the gloves would result in a psychic onrush of all of the Blue Ranger’s unguarded feelings and emotions, and Bridge would never invade his friend’s privacy like that. It was selfish and wrong and just no!

His outstretched hand curled into a loose fist, then he pulled his arm back. Chances were he would never know how it felt to touch Sky’s bare skin. It was the way it was, the way it’ll always be. Bridge swallowed down the lump in his throat, rolled over with his back to Sky, and willed himself to sleep. In the morning, Sky was his usual stoic self. He never mentioned the dreams, and neither did Bridge.

                                                                                            ************

On the south side of NewTech City, in an underground room of a nondescript warehouse, a technician was sitting in front of a computer, typing, scrolling, searching. His fingers flew over the keyboard and images were flashing across the screen, until the computer suddenly beeped.

“Sir, I think I have a hit.”

Across the room, a meticulously groomed and dressed man looked up from his handheld device. He approached the desk to look over his henchman’s shoulder at the picture of a grinning young man on the screen.

“Who is he?”

“Bridge Carson, second-year cadet, SPD B-Squad. Empath with psychometric abilities.”

“Is he the only one?”

“So far, yes, sir. No other human psychics, empaths or telepaths are listed in the files.”

“Then he’ll have to do.” The man touched his minion’s shoulder. “Find out his work schedule, especially off-base patrols, before their systems discover your hack.” He allowed himself a smug smile. “See, I knew that SPD personnel files were the place to look for what we need. I was right.”

“You usually are, sir.”

The man regarded the image on the screen for another moment. _Cadet Carson, I have a job for you and you better do it well._

                                                                                          ****************

“Z, I’m telling you, it’s the purple cows on Kobia II, their milk is one of the creamiest in the whole quadrant! It’s gotta be the zero-gravity pastures, or maybe it’s the fact that they get backrubs from the farmers every day, or it could be the white noise generators, did you know they are mandatory at every dairy farm in the Kobian cluster? That’s because by law, these cows have to get an average of eight hours of sleep at night…Anyway, that’s why Kobian butter is the best brand to use for the most buttery toast.” Bridge suddenly sat up straight and snapped his fingers. “I think I’m going to put in for some time off, then go to Kobia II and spend some serious time on one of those farms, bonding with the cows, learning the ins and out of dairy farming and butter-making, bring back lots of samples and detailed video recordings, that has to convince Kruger to put Kobian butter on the cafeteria menu!”

“You want to go on vacation to a dairy farm?” Z couldn’t help but laugh as she steered their patrol jeep around a corner. They had left SPD headquarters for their routine morning patrol of NewTech’s harbor area over fifteen minutes ago and Bridge was still well into his monologue about the best types of butter to use for toast.

“Why not?” Bridge flashed her his signature goofy grin. “I think it would be a great experience. Plus, it would give me a leg up if I decide that I’m gonna become a dairy farmer after I retire…”

_“Attention all Sector 6 patrols, robbery in progress at Zirox’s Plutonian Deli on 1500 Highland Avenue. Closest units please respond! I repeat: robbery in progress at…”_

“That’s literally the next street over,” Z cried, flooring the accelerator while Bridge switched on the roof lights and sirens and snatched the radio microphone to respond to the call.

                                                                                             **************

They reached the scene of the alleged crime three minutes later to find – absolutely nothing.

The building housing the deli was located on a quiet side-street; the few parked vehicles along the sidewalk were all empty, a solitary hobo dozing in an entranceway a dozen feet away was the only other sign of life in the entire street. The whole area was eerily quiet.

They could see through the panoramic window that all lights were off inside the deli. A “Closed” sign blinked in neon colors on the front door. Z tried the door anyways, but it was locked.

“I don’t get it. Did dispatch get the call wrong?”

“Maybe they went in through the back door and are still inside?” Bridge wondered out loud. “Lemme just double-check real quick…” Bridge holstered his blaster and raised his hand. But before he had a chance to pull off his glove, a beam of energy hit him from behind, right between the shoulder blades. With a cry of pain and surprise, Bridge went down instantly – and stayed down, motionless.

“Bridge!” Z yelled, her blaster already swinging in the direction of the unseen attack, but before she could take three steps towards her downed teammate, a second blast hit her in the chest, catapulting her backwards and into the side of the deli’s building.

She never saw the black van pulling up alongside Bridge, nor the two masked men jumping out of the open side door who grabbed Bridge and shoved him inside the van. With screeching tires, the vehicle disappeared around the corner, leaving behind only a once-again quiet street and the Yellow Ranger’s unconscious form.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

_RedOrangeBluePurpleYellowBlackPinkGreenBrownGrey…_ The colors swirled before his closed eyelids and Bridge let out a groan at the pressure against the inside of his skull. _‘So many auras, where are they, where am I, what happened, where is Z…?’_

Opening his eyes seemed to take forever, and when he did, there was not much to see. He found himself laying on the bare floor of an empty, windowless room. He was alone, but the blinking red light on the camera mounted above the sturdy-looking door showed him that someone was watching him.

_Definitely not on Highland Avenue anymore!_

His hand went to his empty holster. Of course his blaster and his morpher were gone. Bridge raised his hands. So were his gloves. _Oh oh…_

Well, that explained all the auras in his vicinity. Bridge sat up with a wince and rubbed the still throbbing spot between his shoulder blades. _Knocked out by a stun shot. Oldest trick in the book and I fell for it…_

He scooted backwards until he was propped up against the wall, facing the door. _Now what?_ Trying the door seemed too stupid a move to even waste energy on, so he did the next best thing and, with a wave of his hand, scanned the area around him. _At least a dozen auras, none of them familiar, and none of them friendly. All but one of them human, and four of them coming this way…_

The sound of a deadbolt sliding back made Bridge sit up straighter. Four people entered the room; three brutish-looking thugs and a middle-aged man, handsomely dressed in a stylish three-piece suit and equally expensive-looking shoes. The man regarded Bridge with a smile, but the Green Ranger immediately sensed the danger emanating from his steel-grey aura.

“Cadet Carson, you’re up. Very good.” He waved his hand to indicate the room. “I hope you’ll forgive the circumstances of our meeting, but time is of the essence and a formal appointment with you would have taken too long.” He chuckled at his little joke, and so did his henchmen.

_The guy knew his name!_ Bridge blinked as the pieces fell into place. _This was all a set up. The now obviously fake robbery call, the stun shot, the fact that Z wasn’t here…_ “Well, definitely _not_ pleased to meet you.” He cast a look at the door, but two of the goons were effectively blocking it. No way to get past them.“Where am I, and where is my partner?”

The man waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, I’m sure she is fine,” he said, ignoring the first part of the question. “Probably waking up in that alley right about now. The same spot I’ll be happy to return you to once you have successfully helped resolve a small problem of mine.” The man’s smile never reached his eyes. “ _If_ it is resolved to my satisfaction.”

Bridge shifted in his position on the floor, but made no motion to get up. His heart was beating in his throat, but he was determined not to be intimidated by this fop and his goon squad. “You do realize that, just by me being here, you have already committed about half a dozen criminal offenses.” He began ticking off his fingers. “Calling in a false emergency call, ambushing and assaulting SPD officers, abducting and confining an SPD officer against his will, not to mention not feeding said officer, since I’m sure it’s past lunchtime by now and I don’t see any of you carrying any takeout bags.” He let his hands fall in his lap. “And why is it that you know my name, but I don’t know yours?”

“Ah, names.” The man smirked, completely unfazed by Bridge’s itemization. “Such a cumbersome form of address. Usually, people just call me Sir, but if you want a different designation, you may call me….Mr. Merchant.”

Bridge had no such intentions. “Why am I here?”

At this, the man tugged at the knees of his suit pants and lowered himself until he was crouched at eye level with Bridge. “Ah yes, here is the deal; you see, I’m a businessman. My line of merchandise appeals to a clientele in a very specific market. And through a – misfortunate - series of events, a very substantial and expensive shipment of mine went missing.” Cold, dark eyes honed in on Bridge’s face as the man’s grey aura darkened and began to pulse with anger. “I want it back. Simple as that. And you are going to use your powers to help me find it.”

_My powers…_ Bridge’s blood ran cold with a sense of foreboding.

“You could’ve just filed a police report…” he mumbled, and Merchant chuckled.

“Cute. But it’s not that kind of shipment.” At the snap of his fingers, one of his thugs handed him several sheets of glossy papers, which he spread out on the floor in front of Bridge. Each photograph showed about a dozen translucent containers with several rows of stoppered glass vials inside. Every vial was filled with a purplish liquid. And affixed to each receptacle was a bright yellow sticker with four black interlocking rings, the universal logo for Biohazard Warning.

Looking at the pictures, a knot began to form in Bridge’s stomach. He shot Merchant a look, but the thug was gazing at the photos like a proud father looking at his newborn.

“This is the crowning achievement of years of hard work,” he said. “Years of funding clandestine research, countless trials and errors, obstacle after obstacle, but in the end it was all worth it. The finished product exceeded all of my expectations. Each vial contains enough of a genetically engineered virus that, once it’s airborne, will wipe out all extraterrestrial life within a one-hundred mile radius. And the best part about it is that it is completely harmless to humans.”

Bridge’s mouth went dry. _Oh no!_

“Ingenious, isn’t it?” With a self-satisfied grin, Merchant raised an eyebrow, as if he actually expected Bridge to praise him for his genocidal plan.

“You’re a bio-terrorist,” Bridge retorted, and Merchant’s grin vanished in an instant.

_“I am a freedom fighter!”_ The fist that backhanded him connected with lightning speed, and with a grunt of pain Bridge tumbled over and onto his side. He instinctively raised his hands to ward off another blow, but that only amplified everyone’s auras in the room and Bridge found himself immersed in psychic waves of hostility and malice. He choked down a groan and simply glared at the gangster looming over him.

Merchant grabbed him by the front of his uniform jacket and roughly propped him back up against the wall. “Let me make something very clear to you,” he snarled into the Green Ranger’s face. “I despise aliens. Of any kind. And I am by far not alone with this sentiment. There are many like-minded groups such as mine out there, just waiting for a chance to rid Earth of all of these cosmic cockroaches once and for all. I have spent an enormous amount of time and energy getting them all to agree on a specific date and time for an all-out attack, and for that I need my virus. All of it!” His balled fist was inches from Bridge’s face and his furious aura sent stabs of fresh pain through the young cadet’s already throbbing head.

“You have no idea how much planning, time, resources, _not to mention MONEY_ , it took to get so much of this virus together, only to have it all snatched out from under my nose by the same creatures we were going to use it against! An entire truckload of merchandise. GONE!” Merchant literally spat that last word at Bridge and the Green Ranger involuntarily flinched.

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

Merchant rose and glared down at him. He was clearly becoming impatient. “Use your powers to locate my pathogens.” He stabbed a manicured finger at the pictures, then at Bridge. “I read your file, I know what you are and what you can do.”

“My powers don’t work like that,” Bridge exclaimed. “I don’t know where those vials are! I can’t just look at these photos and some map magically appears in my head that would show me the way.”

“Maybe not, but…”

At the wave of his hand, the two thugs who were hovering just behind their boss stepped forward, each grabbing one of Bridge’s arms in vicelike grips. They hoisted him to his feet while Merchant now gave him a shark-like smile, as if his outburst from a few moments ago had never happened.

“…you can find that out from the one who knows.”

And with that, Bridge was marched forward and out of the room.

TBC...


	3. chapter 3

SPD B-Squad as well as Commander Cruger and Dr. Kat Manx were assembled around the main computer in the Delta Base’s Command Center. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife; Z had returned to base only a few minutes ago, after she called in the ambush and Bridge’s disappearance. The huge holographic monitor in the middle of the room was playing the feedback from several security cameras positioned on Highland Avenue and the immediate area. Z visibly flinched when the recording reached the part where Bridge was shot. Jack put a soothing hand on his best friend’s shoulder, but judging from the dismayed look on the Yellow Ranger’s face, it didn’t seem to help. She clearly blamed herself for the whole incident.

Sky tried to remain stone-faced, but by the time the feedback ended, he had to close his eyes to steady himself against the nausea rising in this throat. _This could not be happening. Not again!_

The first time Bridge was kidnapped, by the alien Bork (*), was still firmly imprinted in his mind. The worry, the helplessness and fear for Bridge’s safety, the impotent rage he felt when Cruger assigned Jack to look for Bridge instead of him…

Thankfully, Jack had found Bridge pretty quickly, and afterwards the team had rallied around him for days, making sure he was all right, but during the nights it was Sky who had lain awake, guarding Bridge’s sleep, ready to pull him out of the inevitable nightmares of being crushed by moving walls. And it was Sky’s shoulder Bridge had held on to until the shakes subsided and he was once again ready to resume sleep.

It was during one of those nights that he finally admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with Bridge Carson.

“Rangers, this is a most serious situation and we need to work fast and smart to find Bridge.” Commander Cruger’s voice was steady and resolute, but the Rangers were by now familiar enough with their canine leader’s demeanor to know that he was as worried about their teammate as they were. “This was obviously a premeditated abduction, so first things first,” he addressed his team. “Jack, trace the van; Kat, track Bridge’s morpher signal; Syd, run facial recognition on the kidnappers; Z and Sky, check all of Bridge’s arrest records with the corresponding incarceration facility logs to see if any of these criminals have escaped or been released lately. This could be a revenge situation.”

“Yes, sir!”

The team sprang into action, each Ranger hurrying to a computer console to work on their assigned tasks while Cruger contacted the SPD dispatch center to check on the initial call about the deli robbery. It didn’t take long to reveal that the report about the robbery was made by an anonymous caller and could not be traced. Cruger had expected as much, but he nevertheless growled in frustration.

“Rangers! Status reports!” he barked.

Kat looked up from the main computer console, her face grim. “Nothing is coming up on Bridge’s morpher signal. Whoever took him must have disabled or destroyed it.”

“Keep trying, Kat, widen the search radius. Jack!”

“I’m still checking the feedbacks from the traffic cams in the area, Commander, but the van must have been equipped with some sort of cloaking device,” the Red Ranger reported dejectedly, “…because three minutes after it left Highland Avenue, it literally vanished in the middle of the road.”

“What about the license plates?”

“There were no license plates on the van at all. I scanned the image from all angles, and there are no distinctive features or traceable markings on it, either. It’s just an ordinary van, sir.”

Cruger gave him a stern look, sighed, then turned to Syd. “Cadet Drew, give me some good news.”

But Syd shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, sir, but since they wore masks, facial recognition came up negative. All I can tell you is that they are human and male.”

Sky’s spirits sank lower with every negative response, since Z and he had come up empty as well. He fought the impulse to smash his fist into the console and instead stabbed the touchpad with his finger to close the last file on the screen. Then he turned and made his report.

“Sir, we double-checked every arrest Bridge ever made, and everyone is either still in prison or their whereabouts are accounted for by their parole officers.”

“So we’re are back to Square One.” Cruger bared his teeth and let out a menacing growl. “Unacceptable!”

“There might be one thing I can try.”

All eyes in the room turned to Kat, who had spoken up. Their feline technician looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned back to her computer console and began to type. “After the last time Bridge managed to get himself captured during that whole mess with Bork I thought it might be a good idea to come up with some alternate method of “Ranger-tracking” that can’t be disabled. So I started to work on developing a method of scanning unusual human bio-signatures.”

Numbers and formulae began to fill up the screen as she talked. “All humans have bio-signatures, and they can usually be grouped into patterns. Genetically altered humans, however, have unique patterns, especially when it comes to brainwaves, electromagnetic waves and biophotons.”

Kat’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and a few moments later, a 3-D revolving image of Bridge appeared. Pale green light shimmered all around him while his brain and his hands were illuminated in a darker shade of green. In the background the numbers and formulae continued to scroll across the screen.

“This bio-signature tracking program is specifically geared towards humans with special genetic powers such as all of you,” she elaborated to the Rangers. “I explained my idea to Bridge a few weeks back and he agreed to be my guinea pig for the program, but we only got as far as getting his body scans and the preliminary lab tests done before Gruumm launched his latest attack on the Delta Base and everything once again got so crazy around here that I haven’t had the chance yet to finish the program and test the tracker in the field.”

“Nevertheless, an excellent idea, Dr. Manx,” Commander Cruger exclaimed. “How quickly can you complete the program?”

“Well, I need to sequence the logarithms, then input the lab test results, then configure the SPD tracking satellite…”

“Kat, just get it done.”

“Yes, sir.”

While Kat was working, the Rangers had no choice but to wait. None of them wanted to leave the Command Center, so they all loitered in various corners or chairs; Syd was quietly talking to Z, who was biting one fingernail after another, and Jack was leaning against the doorframe, tapping the heel of his boot against the wall in a rhythm that would normally have driven Sky crazy after a minute, but the Blue Ranger was far too worried about Bridge to even pay Jack any mind.

Sky’s mind was in turmoil; too restless to sit, he was pacing aimlessly around the room, hands raking through his hair. The quiet panic that had settled in his chest ever since he first heard of the ambush had not diminished, although Kat’s tracker program had sparked a glimmer of hope within him that he was desperately trying to hold on to.

He could not get the image of Bridge getting shot in the back out of his head. _Where was he? Was he hurt? Who did this and what did they want with him?_

_And what if Kat couldn’t get the program to work?_

Sky’s muscles coiled with tension as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He looked around the room at his superiors and his teammates, and Bridge’s absence felt like a physical pain in his stomach.

His friend, his teammate, his roommate…and the man he had been inexplicably falling deeper and deeper in love with over the course of the past year.

Sky shook his head. He had lost count of how many times over the past few months he had asked himself the same question: Out of everyone on the team, why Bridge?

Up until last year Sky had never believed in the ‘opposites attract’ cliché, but his attraction to Bridge now firmly proved this phrase right. And attraction it was, although there were none of the classical symptoms; no butterflies in his stomach, no loss of appetite…just the quiet conviction that this was _it._

These feelings did not develop overnight; as a matter of fact, when he first met Bridge, the ebullient young man had chafed his nerves and tested his patience with his long, drawn-out – and often hypothetical and downright nonsensical – questions.

When they were paired up to be roommates, Sky had had his reservations, but strangely enough, it was Bridge who had alleviated his concerns with just one sentence on the day they moved into their new quarters.

_‘Contrary to popular belief, I can’t read minds, Sky, but I can sense when you’ve had a bad day. And if you want to talk about it, I’ll be there. But if you don’t…just tell me to leave you alone. I don’t have a problem with that.’_

It had worked. And, after a while, Sky had found himself talking to Bridge more often than telling him to leave him alone. Their nightly talks became some sort of an end-of-the-day routine for them, and even his feelings about Bridge’s endless _“Sky, would you rather…”_ questions eventually went from annoyance to mere fond exasperation. Their relationship had gone from teammates to friends, and then to more.

At least for him, since he had no clue about Bridge’s feelings towards him.

_…and when had Bridge licking his lips become sexy? Most of the time the kid wasn’t even aware that he was doing it…_

“Rangers, Commander, I finished the calculations and I’m uploading the data into the SPD satellite tracking system!”

Sky blinked, pulled out of his musings by Kat’s voice, and he sprinted towards the command console, where the scientist was calling up a map of NewTech City. She divided the screen and pulled up Bridge’s bio-signature data on the second half. “I can’t guarantee that this will work, Commander,” she said solemnly, “It’s an untested program, after all. There are a lot of factors that could interfere with the scans.”

A tense minute followed, but then a collective cheer erupted from everyone, including Commander Cruger, when a green-colored bio-signature dot appeared on the screen. Even Kat Manx indulged in one of her rare smiles.

After a few more keystrokes, the map began to rotate and zoom in on what Sky recognized to be the warehouse district in the industrial shipping section of NewTech Harbor. The grid divided again and zoomed in some more until it was superimposed over a large building with the green light pulsing steadily within.

“We got him!” Kat exclaimed. “I’m uploading his position into your Patrol Cycles’ navigational systems.”

“Rangers, move out,” Cruger ordered. “I’m going to send a medical team and C-Squad as backup.”

Jack punched his fist into his palm. “Let’s go get our boy!”

In perfect unison, the B-Squad got into morphing formation. “SPD EMERGENCY! SWAT MODE!”

They were out the door and on their Patrol Cycles in record time. Sky took the lead, wheels screeching as he rounded a corner.

_Hold on, Bridge, I’m coming for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Episode 31 “Missing”


	4. chapter 4

The emotions hit Bridge the moment he was shoved through the door and into the room; _pain, fear, desperation, anger._

The room was about the same size as the one he had woken up in, just as windowless, and anything but empty. A man was sitting at a desk cluttered with several monitors, computer and electronics equipment, and a guard was leaning over a chair which held a hunched-over humanoid alien.

“Cadet Carson, meet your assignment.”

The pain and misery that emanated from the alien prisoner hit Bridge like a punch in the stomach. In the harsh fluorescent overhead lighting he could clearly see that the poor creature had been put through the wringer several times already. His arms and torso were securely tied to the armrests and back of the chair, his tunic-like top was torn and stained with dried blood, but his face was the worst. Bridge was horrified to see the grey, scaly skin blotched and discolored from numerous bruises, one eye almost completely swollen shut, purple welts crisscrossing over cheekbones and jaws. Blood had congealed on his chin from a split lip, and from the sound of his rattled breathing, he had most likely sustained internal injuries as well.

Unperturbed by his captive’s condition, Merchant strode towards the chair, gripped the alien’s chin and roughly jerked his head up. “This morning, on its way to meet one of my buyers, my truck was ambushed by a gang of alien punks. They outnumbered my men, so they were able to overpower them, hijack the truck and steal my merchandise. All but this one got away.”

With an exclamation of disgust, he released his prisoner’s chin, pulled a cloth handkerchief out of his suit pocket and wiped his hand while he circled the chair. “It’s a KerK, they are a race from the somewhere around the Iris Nebula that only communicates via telepathy. Unfortunately, this vermin’s Earth communicator got damaged during the scuffle, so there is no way to talk to him. And he won’t communicate with us in any other way. We’ve tried.”

Bile rose in Bridge’s throat as he looked between the gangster and the tormented alien. He had strived all his life to never hate anyone, but this human piece of garbage made that philosophy very hard. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“All right, let’s get to work. What I need you to do is…”

“I’m not a telepath,” Bridge ground out, and Merchant scoffed at the interruption. “I’m an empath. I can feel how much pain he is in, but I can’t communicate with him.”

Merchant smiled, and it was a scary sight. “That’s fine. I’m not interested anymore in what he has to say. Only in what he has to show.”

Bridge shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way…”

“It will,” Merchant picked up a tablet-like device from the electronics clutter on the desk and held it up for Bridge to see. “With this.”

It looked like a normal tablet, but with the way this day was going Bridge was pretty sure that it wasn’t.

“Your file says that you can read people’s energy. Thoughts are energy, and the neural interface on this device converts the energy you are receiving from the KerK into images for us to record. And sooner or later, he’s going to show us the location of his hideout. It’s just a matter of time.” Merchant smiled again, as if Bridge’s cooperation was already a done deal in his mind. “This whole thing will probably only take a few minutes, and as soon as I have the info I need, you and the KerK are free to go.”

_Yeah, right_. Bridge didn’t need any psychic powers to know that Merchant was lying through his teeth; once he knew the location of his virus, Merchant would probably order them both shot on the spot, and Bridge’s breath hitched at the thought of Sky being the one who might find his lifeless body on this warehouse’s floor.

The gravity of his situation made his knees weak. He was being held captive by an alien-hating sociopath with a hairline-trigger temper, and Bridge wasn’t kidding himself; he was scared. But the alternative was unthinkable. He squared his shoulders.

“Forget it. I’m not going to help you commit multiracial genocide.”

Merchant paused, and Bridge had a moment of quiet satisfaction at the incredulous look that came over him, but then the gangster let out a humorless chuckle, got into Bridge’s face, and with the two goons at his back still holding on to his arms, Bridge had nowhere to retreat to. “Let’s get something straight here,” he said menacingly. “I’m not used to being told No, Carson. When I want something done, it gets done. And I said _get to work.”_

“And I said _Forget It_.”

Merchant’s hands curled into fists, and the waves of anger coming off him seemed to seep all the way into Bridge’s bones. He mentally prepared himself to get hit again. But no punch was forthcoming; instead, his captor’s fists uncurled and his face changed into something Bridge could only describe as feral smugness.

“You seem to believe that you have a choice in this matter,” he said while he motioned for the technician seated in front of the computer. “Let me disabuse you of that notion right now.”

The technician approached with something in his hands. It turned out to be two button electrode patches, a short wire with a red light sticking out of each. Bridge yanked his head away, but that only resulted in one of the goons grabbing a fistful of his hair and holding him in place while the technician attached the electrodes to his temples. Meanwhile, Merchant raised the tablet he was holding, and at the tap of a button the red lights began to blink.

“You see, you and your psychometric powers are simply the transmitter between the images in the KerK’s head and the synaptic receiver in this recording tablet, since the neural transmitter is calibrated to work only with human brainwaves,” Merchant continued as if they were having a casual conversation. “Technically, you won’t even need to be conscious for this, so - you give me a hard time and I will simply let Darryl here take care of you.” He nodded towards the guard standing over the alien’s chair and the addressed thug punched his fist into his palm with a smirk.

“He has a very effective one-hit knockout punch.”

With a sinking sensation Bridge realized that he really did have no choice; Merchant would use him one way or the other. He glared at his captor who took his silence as consent and handed the tablet to his technician while the two goons pulled Bridge behind the alien’s chair and pushed his hands against the back of the prisoner’s bald head.

He had just enough time to think _‘I’m so sorry’_ , before the technician tapped the touchpad and Bridge gasped. The pressure inside his skull was immediate and brutal. His vision whited out for a moment – and then chaos invaded his head.

It was a pure coalescence of sensation, as if all the colors, voices, emotions and sights the KerK had ever received were converging and pressing into Bridge’s head at the same time. None of it made any sense whatsoever. All it did was make him dizzy and disoriented.

Back at the computer desk, Merchant frowned at the monitor displaying the jumbled mess while the technician hacked away at his keyboard, making adjustments to the program. The pictures, however, remained distorted and blurred, too indistinct to distinguish any single image.

“What is this?” Merchant snapped. “I can’t use any of _this_!”

“I’m sorry, sir, the signal’s output must be too low…”

“Well, amplify the signal, then.”

The technician swiped at a digital lever on the tablet’s touchpad, and Bridge let out a cry of pain. His brain felt like it was being electrocuted and every image forced into his head became bigger, brighter, louder and faster. He tried to wrest his hands back, but the goons held him firmly in place. Nausea was building up inside him as his mind was hammered by unrelenting waves of sensory input.

It seemed to go on forever. Everything was too loud, too many colors, too much sensation, he couldn’t escape it, and panic was beginning to constrict his throat.

“Please,” he panted. “I…need a…a break.”

“ -- too bad for you, because I don’t have the time to wait for you while you’re taking a nap,” he dimly heard Merchant speaking to him, but amidst the cacophony of noise, images and colors, he was so dazed that he couldn’t even place where the voice was coming from.

The technician monitoring the recording device shot Bridge a worried look. “Sir, maybe we should give him a breather…” He fell silent at the withering look he received from his boss.

“Look, at this point I don’t care if this fries _all_ of his wires!” Merchant snapped. “We are close, I know it.” The gangster strode back over to the computer desk, his whimpering captive already forgotten, his attention now wholly focused on the clearer pictures streaming across the monitor in front of him, eyes roaming over the every image that might show the hideout of the alien gang.

He was so engrossed in the image cascade that he flinched violently and let out a very unmanly squeal of surprise when the door to the room suddenly disintegrated with a deafening boom and a shower of debris.

                                                                  **********************

Not waiting for the dust from the door to clear, SPD B-Squad stormed into the room amidst a chorus of _“FREEZE!”, “SPD, you’re under arrest!”, and “drop your weapons!”_

It took Sky less than two seconds to take in the scene: One man sitting at a desk and a guy in a suit looking over his shoulder, images flashing across a computer screen, Bridge standing behind an alien tied to a chair, two big brutes holding on his arms and wrists, his hands held in place against the alien’s head, Bridge’s face wracked with pain…Sky moved solely on instinct; he blasted the first, then the second brute with stun shots before either of them had a chance to reach for the guns on their belts. The moment they let go of Bridge, the Green Ranger crumbled to the floor like a sack of flour.

Sky was by his side a moment later. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of his friend. Bridge was unnaturally pale, a sheen of sweat coated his face, two strange electrodes pulsing with red lights were attached to his temples, and his hands - his _bare_ hands - were shaking so badly that he couldn’t keep himself propped up. He was so obviously in agony that Sky was gripped by an impulse to vaporize every one of the punks who had laid a hand on Bridge. _What had they done to him?_

He knelt by the cowering figure and put a hand on his shoulder. “Bridge!”

“No!” Eyes screwed shut, Bridge lashed out at him. “No more! Leave me alone!”

_He doesn’t recognize me._ Sky touched his morpher. “Power down!” He leaned back in, hoping that Bridge would feel his familiar aura. “Bridge, it’s me, it’s Sky. Do you hear me?” He stroked his team-mate’s sweat-damp hair. “It’s ok, we are all here.”

At the sound of Sky’s voice, Bridge’s eyes snapped open. “Sky?” he rasped. Sky carefully gathered him up in his arms and Bridge let his head fall forward onto the blue Ranger’s chest. “Oh, thank god.”

Sky reached out and ripped the electrodes off Bridge’s temples, then simply held on to the shaking body while all around him the rest of the team rounded up the gang of criminals and placed then in containment cards. The SPD medical team arrived at the scene and administered First Aid to the injured KerK. One of the medics approached them, but Sky waved him away.

“Come on, I got you. Let’s get out of here.” Sky grabbed Bridge carefully around the waist to help him stand up, but the empath’s legs buckled under him.

“Hold on, I…I need another minute…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you. Hold on to me, ok?”

Bridge peered up at Sky. He knew that his teammate had at least a very good idea of the extent of feelings and emotions Bridge would be receiving from him the moment they made contact. But Sky’s gaze never wavered.

“It’s fine, really. Just hold on.”

The wave hit Bridge the moment he wrapped his bare hands around his friend’s neck. _Adrenaline, worry, relief,… but most of all, love!_  Bridge gasped and imprinted every one of those psychic emanations radiating from Sky onto his memory before everything finally became too much for the Green Ranger and his completely overloaded system plunged him into unconsciousness.


	5. chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter :)   
> I'm not 100% happy with their dialogue, but then again...this is fanfiction, not a psych dissertation. So, I hope you all enjoyed this story. I certainly had fun writing it.   
> Dany

_Silence, darkness, peace._ No psychic waves pushing against his mind, no colors swirling behind his closed eyelids. Only Sky’s comforting aura nearby…Bridge opened his eyes and found himself in his own bed. He let out a long, shuddering breath of relief. A rustling sound came from somewhere to his left, and a moment later Sky’s face appeared above him.

“Hey, welcome back.”

“Oh man, it’s good to be back home.” Bridge propped himself up on his elbows. His voice sounded raspy and he still felt a little weak, but his headache had diminished to a mere buzz in the back of his skull. Sky sat on the edge of his mattress and held out a bottle of water to him. Bridge took it with a grateful nod and downed half of it in two big gulps. He noticed that he was once again wearing gloves. Sky must have put on one of his spare pairs. “How long was I out?”

“Couple of hours. Kat came by earlier, took your vitals and did a brain scan. You checked out fine.” The fond look in Sky’s eyes made Bridge’s heart skip a beat. “How are you feeling?”

“All right, I guess. A little hungry.”                       

At that, Sky smiled and got up. “Got just the thing for you.” He rummaged around the mini-fridge between their bunks, and a moment later, he chucked something at Bridge, who caught it reflexively. The Green Ranger’s face split into a grin when he saw what he was holding.

Mint chocolate chunk ice cream. And not the replicated stuff, but Bridge’s favorite brand of ice cream, made with Kobian milk, from the deli across the street from the Command Base.

Sky held up two spoons. “Sharing is caring, though.”

_Oh, I care._ Bridge popped the lid and held the carton out to him. The two Rangers settled onto the mattress, shoulder to shoulder, with their backs against the wall to devour the ice cream while Sky brought Bridge up to speed on everything; from the fake dispatch call to how Kat managed to make the tracking program run and lock on to Bridge’s bio-signal to the arrests of “Merchant” and his crew as well as a few other developments that had occurred while he was unconscious.

“…so Jack and the girls arrested everyone at the warehouse. They’re being held in confinement cards until they can be arraigned, the injured KerK is being treated in the medical wing until he can stand trial…” Sky shrugged at the pitying look on Bridge’s face. “Hey, he is still a suspect in an armed robbery. But through a translator he did agree to a plea deal for a reduced sentence and told Cruger the location of the stolen virus stash. He said his gang was tipped off about a covert delivery of a very valuable drug. An easy job with the potential of a high payout on the black market. They didn’t even really know what it was they were stealing.” The two Rangers looked at each other and Bridge suppressed a shudder at the thought of the disaster that would have occurred if the robbers had uncorked even one of those vials.

“But the team is there right now, confiscating everything.”

“How come you didn’t go with them?” Bridge asked.

“I…” The abashed look in Sky’s eyes lasted only for a moment. “I wanted to be here when you woke up. Wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Besides,” he continued quickly, “Cruger went with them, so they don’t need me. And Kat is standing by to secure everything in the SPD vault to make sure none of this virus ever gets airborne.” Sky ate a spoonful of ice cream and Bridge tried not to stare when he licked a drop of mint from the corner of his mouth.

“So…between the KerK’s testimony and your statements, together with the recovered virus and all the other evidence C-Squad secured at the warehouse…” Sky’s smile was grim. “Hammond is looking at life in prison for biological warfare, attempted genocide and half a dozen other crimes.”

 Bridge cocked his head. “Who?”

“Carlton Hammond. The guy in the suit. I take it he didn’t introduce himself to you.”

“Not with that name.”

“Well, turns out Carlton Hammond is the assistant CFO of a major national pharmaceutical company. He’s been under observation by the Terran Central Intelligence Agency for the past few years for his involvement with several xenophobic and anthropocentric extremist groups. He is also on the radar of the IRS and the local police force on suspicion of embezzlement, money laundering and illegal use of company laboratory equipment. So far, none of the authorities were able to formally charge him with anything due to lack of evidence.” The Blue Ranger handed the container back to Bridge, who scraped the last of the ice cream out of it. “Not until now.”

Sky almost smiled, but then his gaze veered towards the fading bruise on Bridge’s cheek. “I wish I could get five minutes alone with that scumbag for what he did to you, but since Cruger probably won’t let me borrow his containment card, I guess life in prison will have to do.”

Sky’s voice was quiet and composed, but Bridge saw truth and determination in his eyes and a wave of heart-rending gratefulness surged through him for the man he loved, his fellow Ranger and the teammate he knew he could count on to have his back in any situation. Bridge wanted nothing more than to reach out, wrap his arms around Sky and simply hang on.

It would be easy, too. All he had to do was lean over just a little…Bridge was suddenly very much aware of how close they were still sitting. Although the ice cream container was sitting empty between them, neither of them had moved, their shoulders were still touching, and Sky smelled good – which promptly made Bridge realize that _he_ most likely didn’t.

Their close proximity also reminded him that there was still one big invisible obstacle between them. The feelings he had received from Sky at the warehouse were firmly lodged in a mental compartment of his mind, but they needed to be addressed.

Just - not yet. Bridge knew he was procrastinating, but there was only so much he could deal with at one time. First things first – hot water and soap.

Reluctantly, he detached himself from Sky’s side. “I think I’m gonna go and take the longest shower of my life. Need to wash the warehouse off me.” Sky nodded, and Bridge scooted off the bed, snatching up the sweatpants and t-shirt he slept in the night before along the way.

“Thanks for the ice cream, Sky.”

The small, affectionate smile on Sky’s face tugged on Bridge’s heart a lot more than it should have. “Anytime, buddy.”

Bridge could feel Sky’s eyes on his retreating back as he fled to their shared bathroom. 

                                                                                ************

Bridge re-emerged twenty minutes later to find Sky still sitting in the exact same spot on Bridge’s bed. The Blue Ranger was studying his hands, but when Bridge came closer, Sky looked up with a nervous yet determined look in his eyes.

“Bridge, we need to talk.”

“Uh, okay.” With an internal sigh, Bridge perched on the mattress, facing his friend. He knew what was coming; Sky was clearing the air between them. And it would hurt.

While showering, he had some time to think about the psychic vibes he had received from Sky at the warehouse, and although his head had been a maelstrom of mental agony at the time, Sky’s love had soaked his mind more than any of his other feelings. But love had many interpretations, and just because Bridge desperately wanted it to be THAT kind of love didn’t mean that it was. The somber look on Sky’s face only underscored that feeling now, and for the sake of their friendship and their partnership as Rangers, he had an obligation to help Sky with letting him down easily, then reassure him of their brotherly bond and hide his devastation until he was alone.

“Look, about what you felt from me at the warehouse…” Sky began, but Bridge held up his hand.

“Sky, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I shouldn’t have touched you.” He shook his head when Sky tried to interject. “But it happened, and since I can’t un-feel what I felt, I just want to let you know that I’m really flattered that you have this affection for me…” Bridge exhaled and tried not to wince at how lame he sounded even to his own ears.

“ _Affection?_ ” Sky repeated, eyebrow raised.

“Well, I did get a feeling of love from you, but love is such a broad emotion, if you think about it. I mean…there are lots of types of love; there is the love you have for your family, for your dog, your favorite food or your favorite sports team, your job or your team members, it could even be love for your favorite piece of Ranger equipment. For example, I love my Delta Flyer…”

“Bridge!”

“Okay, okay. What I’m trying to say is…we work together, we live together, so in a way I guess we’re like brothers, and so if it’s just brotherly love you feel for me…”

Bridge paused when Sky averted his eyes, breathed deeply, squared his shoulders, then looked back up at Bridge. “No, it’s not.”

Sky’s eyes were impossibly blue, open and honest, and Bridge felt his pulse doubling and his heart leap into his throat. “Oh.”

_So it was true after all! It **was** the type of love he had been hoping for! It was…_

“And I am really sorry about that.”

And just like that, Bridge’s spirits, which had been soaring sky-high a second ago, came crashing back down to Earth. “Wh…Why?”

“Because you’re my teammate, my roommate. My friend. These feelings I’ve been having, they’re…inappropriate, to say the least.” Sky dropped his gaze, and Bridge stared at his long, dark lashes while the Blue Ranger fumbled with the cuff on his uniform sleeve.  “Besides, you know that it’s against regulations. And I’m sure they make you uncomfortable. Therefore I owe you an apology, and if you want me to move out…”

“Don’t,” Bridge said softly, and Sky frowned in confusion.

“Don’t what?”

“Apologize.”

“But I don’t want this to mess up our friendship…”

 “Sky,” Bridge blurted out. “I love you, too!”

That stopped Sky dead in his tracks. His head snapped up. “Wait. What?”

Bridge made his decision right there and then. _Nowhere to go but forward_. He reached between them, took a hold of Sky’s hand and placed it firmly on his chest, right on top of his wildly thumping heart.

“You want to know how I feel?” He fixed Sky with a determined look. “This is what you do to me every time you are close to me, every time you smile at me. Every time you praise for me for something….” Sky’s eyes were wide, but Bridge kept the Blue Ranger’s hand over his heart. “Actually, you make me feel like this all the time.”

“Bridge, I…” Sky shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Since when?”

Bridge gave him a shrug-nod. “Early academy days, I guess. I’m not really sure. What I do know for sure, though, is that the day we were assigned as roommates was the best day of my life.”

“But that was two years ago!” Sky was incredulous. “Why did I never notice anything?”

“Because I didn’t let you,” Bridge said. “If this…” he indicated their room with a nod, “…was all I could have with you, it would have been enough. I wouldn’t risk our friendship for anything.”

Sky opened his mouth, but Bridge wasn’t finished. “When I came to the Academy, most of the other cadets didn’t understand my powers. And since people are usually afraid of the things they don’t understand…”Bridge went for a casual shrug that most likely didn’t fool Sky. “Needless to say, basic training was rough. In every sense - until I met you and Syd. You were the only ones I connected with. You two didn’t keep your distance from me. And you stuck with me even when you got stuck with me as your roomie. You didn’t feed into the _‘don’t hang out with the weirdo who can read minds’_ paranoia. You didn’t mind that I was different.”

Sky raised an eyebrow. “What kind of a hypocrite would I be if I minded you being different,” he said and a small, blue translucent force field materialized just above his upturned palm. The two Rangers smiled at each other over the blue glow.

The force field disappeared as Sky slowly lifted his hand, signaling his intentions, before he gently stroked his fingers down the bruise on Bridge’s cheek. “I never minded rooming with you, and I hope it’s not going to change either, because I might have to stay very close to you from now on,” he said gravely, but the twinkle in his eyes belied the sincerity of his words. “You know, strictly to keep you safe.”

Sky’s touch was like fire on Bridge’s skin, and it took most of the Green Ranger’s self-control not to sigh in bliss. “I would like that.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, the air charging between them, and suddenly Bridge found that he couldn’t move. Frozen in place, taking in this new development between them, he found that his brain simply didn’t tell him what to say or to do next. Sky was so close, those blue eyes boring into his, and Bridge could feel his ears heating up and his mouth going dry. Sky seemed to sense his insecurity and made the decision for them; inching forward, his eyes gave Bridge a moment’s warning before he almost carefully pressed their mouths together – and the rest of the world disappeared for a while.

Not physically, of course. But for Bridge, this mind-blowing-yet-not-mind-blowing first contact with Sky blocked out everything else. It took over his body and soul, and for a few glorious moments Space Patrol Delta, the Command Center, this room, even the mattress underneath them, ceased to exist until there was nothing else but soft lips, Sky’s aura and his own, still wildly beating heart.

He felt the kiss not only with his body, but with his entire being; Sky’s aura seemed to envelop him, Sky’s hand caressed his cheek, but Sky’s emotions caressed his mind. It was perfect, it blew away all of his daydream kisses, and Bridge let out a moan – which promptly made Sky break their kiss.

“You ok? Is it too much…”

“What? No!” Bridge blinked at the sudden loss of contact. “This is great. This is better than great.” He surged forward, and Sky barely got a chuckle in before Bridge claimed his lips again. This time he made sure not to make any noise and consequently their kiss dragged out until they were both breathless. When they finally did break apart, however, they stayed as close as they could, foreheads touching, noses bumping, as each man simply enjoyed the other one’s closeness, the intimacy so new, so full of promise…Bridge wished they could stay like this forever when, a moment later, he felt more than saw Sky’s lips curve into a smile.

“I just had a thought…” the Blue Ranger murmured.

“Uh huh?”

“With your score of 2-0 on the abduction board, that would make you B-Squad’s resident damsel in distress,” Sky deadpanned.

“Hey, I resent that,” the Green Ranger huffed half-heartedly. But then Bridge being Bridge, he cocked his head, thinking. “Well, at least technically you’re right, I guess, but I should at least have the proper gender pronoun, but what exactly would that be? Is it ‘damsler’ in distress, or ‘Mr. Damsel’? I guess it could be ‘dude in distress’. Or maybe…”

“Oh, thank god I now have a whole new way to shut you up,” Sky said with a grin, then kissed him once more, and Bridge promptly forgot to breathe for a moment when he felt Sky’s tongue probing at his lips, seeking entrance.

Sky’s arm came around his waist just when he was opening his mouth, tugging them closer together until they almost sat in each other’s laps. Bridge put a hand on the nape of Sky’s neck, gloved fingers caressing the short hair there as he savored each graze of their lips, each swirl of their tongues.

The blue in Sky’s aura was intensifying, the color pressing against Bridge’s closed eyelids, but it was familiar and he could still deal with it. There was no way he was interrupting _this_ kiss until he absolutely had to. His body surrendered to his feelings and, still kissing, he fell backwards onto his pillow, pulling Sky with him.

There were no guarantees in life, especially not in their line of work. This may not last; but for now, being right here right now, doing exactly what he was doing with the man he loved – Bridge couldn’t think of a more perfect ending for an otherwise pretty crappy day.

And for the first time in a long time, Bridge Carson was truly at peace.

THE END


End file.
